


Thoughts From Hell

by ShiieldMaidenofGondor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiieldMaidenofGondor/pseuds/ShiieldMaidenofGondor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a lot of things that I had thought were hell in life - driving in torrential downpours, consumer economics class, college registration - but I never thought that I'd get stuck here for eternity. When I told my best friend that waiting in lines was Hell, I called it. I so called it. Thoughts from Crowley's hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts From Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Supernatural. If I did, scholarships wouldn't be a thing I'd have to get.
> 
> Also posted on FFN

I had always joked about going to Hell. When I'd laugh at blasphemous cartoons or jokes about God or Jesus, my laughing fit would end with an "I'm going to Hell." But that was just a joke, I never meant anything by it. I was a good person in life. At least I thought I had been... I mean, I held doors open for people and refrained from running over old ladies in front of the grocery store... But apparently that wasn't enough for a ticket upstairs once I bit the dust.

I had thought about what Hell might be like. I had imagined the whole fire and brimstone thing - you know, getting tortured by Lucifer and his demons until I went bad too. Come to think of it, it probably wouldn't take very long. I'd thought that maybe it'd be frigidly cold - that deep, bone-chilling cold that freezes you to your very core. I'd even guessed that maybe it was just one big party - complete with drinking, dancing, and fucking your fellow sinners. But I'd never considered _this_.

There were a lot of things that I had likened to hell in life - driving in torrential downpours, consumer economics class, college registration - but I never thought that I'd get stuck _here_ for eternity.

When I told my best friend Emma that waiting in lines was Hell, I called it.

I, Kristina Sax, called it, and I reserve full bragging rights.

I so called it.

Because that is where I am now, my friends. I'm in Hell, waiting in what's probably an endless line. And I thought that waiting at the DMV was bad.

* * *

So I'm still stuck here. In Hell. But it's not quite so bad anymore as it was when I first joined the end of this perpetual line. I started talking to my fellow sinners, and some of them aren't so bad. One chick - Alexis - had a deck of cards on her and we started playing games of poker, euchre, spades, and the like. We played Pimps and Hoes and it wasn't as innocent as it was when I played it back up on earth, but it was easily more fun. Everyone had a blast with BS - made more entertaining by loud swearing and intoxicated players. Mao had some interesting rules added when we played that one. It was great. These people are fantastic.

A guy a little ways up from me and my new friends - Eric, his name was - had a flask of something alcoholic on him and that just made things better. Turns out that Eric has been in Hell for a very long time - ever since 1924, when he got shot by Al Capone himself. Or at least that was Eric's story. Honestly, I didn't care if he was killed by Al Capone, his men, or by Mister fucking Rogers. What my sinful friends and I cared about was that Eric had been a bootlegger in life, and he still had alcohol on him that never seemed to run dry. Our little bit of line is actually starting to get fun.

And come to think of it, if this is what we call fun, then there's definitely a reason for us ending up down here.

* * *

I don’t even know how long it’s been now. People have passed us in line, walking to the back. People have ditched our little pow-wow, and people have joined in the fun. I’m starting to lose track of time here, you know? My watch hasn’t moved since I got here and my cell phone just so happened to not be on my person when I died. It was in my purse in the goddamn passenger seat. Fucking drunk drivers. I didn’t want to die young. I really didn’t. But fate really is a cruel bitch and apparently decided that twenty-six was the perfect age for me to get into a fatal car accident that so wasn’t my fault at all. Definitely not. Okay, maybe a little.

But whatever, that’s beside the point. Actually, I don’t think I ever had a point.

* * *

Some time later, we were still sitting, only we’d moved about the equivalent of three city blocks from where we started. Eric shuffled the deck of 9s, 10s, Jacks, Queens, Kings, and Aces, and dealt five cards to each of our four players. The trump had just gone around without being called and I was just about to pick diamonds, when we were interrupted by the sound of a man angrily yelling and cursing in a British accent.

“Guys,” I said, trying to get my fellow players’ attention back on our game. No response. “Guys!” I said sharply, snapping my fingers a couple times to get their attention.

“But-” Jacob started to say, vaguely pointing towards the angry noises that were getting steadily louder.

“Jake, it’s probably some poor fucker who just found out the hard way that once he gets to the front, he has to haul his ass back to the end,” I said. “Now I call diamonds. Your lead, Gertie,” I said, directing the last bit at Gertrude, the fourth player in our game of Euchre. We got through a few tricks before the shouting and swearing got louder and then came to an abrupt halt. Personally, I was just glad to hear it stop. It was terribly obnoxious. Everyone around us quieted. Why, I wasn’t sure, but I was too busy deliberating over my next lead to look up and see what was going on.

“Tina...” came Gertrude’s voice, soon followed by her hand tapping my shoulder to get my attention.

“Just a sec, Gertie, lemme pick a lead.”

“No, Tina, I think this is more important than what card you lead with,” she said. I brushed her off, but quickly selected my Jack of Hearts, placing it down face up before looking over at her.

“Now, what is it that you wanted to-” I started to say before she grabbed my chin and turned my head towards whatever everyone was staring at so fearfully. I was met with an attractive guy in a very nice tailored suit. I probably would’ve hit on him if he hadn’t been scowling down at us with a fury that I didn’t think humanly possible.

“Hey there, Grumpy, what’s got your panties in a twist?” I greeted him, “Found out that you have to go back to the end?” At my statement, he did something, I don’t know what or how, but it was like he used the Force or something to aggressively levitate my body and slam my back against the wall. I squirmed and wriggled, but no matter how hard I tried to detach my limbs from the wall, I couldn’t move. On the contrary, the more I resisted, it felt like bonds were tightening around my chest, squeezing the fight out of me.

And then Grumpy snapped.

“What the fuck do you think you’re DOING?!” he shouted in our faces. “This is _HELL_ not some fucking amusement park! You’re supposed to be suffering for all eternity, not playing cards!” he said. It was kind of scary. You could see the spit flying from his mouth. I waited for one of my newfound friends to retort, but they just sat there like scared little rabbits. _Fucking cowardly sinners._

“You just upset that we didn’t invite _you_ to play, big boy? Who the fuck are you anyways to yell at us for making Hell a little enjoyable?” I said, thankful that I could still talk despite the immobility of the rest of my body. At that, he took on a frighteningly sinister grin and stalked towards me. He pulled a knife from somewhere, I don’t know where, but once he was face to face with me, he brought the blade up to my throat. He snapped his fingers and the cards and alcohol disappeared into thin air.

“The name’s Crowley,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his face, “King of Hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was inspired by the line at the DMV. I was thinking about how much I hate waiting in lines, how it was hell, and then naturally, my mind strayed to Crowley's hell and thus this little plot bunny was born!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, but I won't know if you did unless you leave me a review :)
> 
> Natalie out.


End file.
